"Began to bend down his admiring eyes
On all her touching looks and qualities,
Turning their shapely sweetness every way
Till 'twas his food and habit day by day."
LEIGH HUNT.
THERE must have been a secret something about Alice Darvil singularly
captivating, that (associated as she was with images of the most sordid
and the vilest crimes) left her still pure and lovely alike in the eyes
of a man as fastidious as Ernest Maltravers, and of a man as influenced
by all the thoughts and theories of the world as the shrewd banker of
C------. Amidst things foul and hateful had sprung up this beautiful
flower, as if to preserve the inherent heavenliness and grace of human
nature, and proclaim the handiwork of God in scenes where human nature
had been most debased by the abuses of social art; and where the light
of God Himself was most darkened and obscured. That such contrasts,
though rarely and as by chance, are found, every one who has carefully
examined the wastes and deserts of life must own. I have drawn Alice
Darvil scrupulously from life, and I can declare that I have not
exaggerated hue or lineament in the portrait. I do not suppose, with
our good banker, that she owed anything, unless it might be a greater
delicacy of form and feature, to whatever mixture of gentle blood was in
her veins. But, somehow or other, in her original conformation there
was the happy bias of the plantes towards the Pure and the Bright. For,
despite Helvetius, a common experience teaches us that though education
and circumstances may mould the mass, Nature herself sometimes forms the
individual, and throws into the clay, or its spirit, so much of beauty
or deformity, that nothing can utterly subdue the original elements of
character. From sweets one draws poison--from poisons another extracts
but sweets. But I, often deeply pondering over the psychological
history of Alice Darvil, think that one principal cause why she escaped
the early contaminations around her was in the slow and protracted
development of her intellectual faculties. Whether or not the brutal
violence of her father had in childhood acted through the nerves upon
the brain, certain it is that until she knew Maltravers--until she
loved--till she was cherished--her mind had seemed torpid and locked up.
True, Darvil had taught her nothing, nor permitted her to be taught
anything; but that mere ignorance would have been no preservation to a
quick, observant mind. It was the bluntness of the senses themselves
that operated tike an armour between her mind and the vile things around
her. It was the rough, dull covering of the chrysalis, framed to bear
rude contact and biting weather, that the butterfly might break forth,
winged and glorious, in due season. Had Alice been a quick child, Alice
would have probably grown up a depraved and dissolute woman; but she
comprehended, she understood little or nothing, till she found an
inspirer in that affection which inspires both beast and man; which
makes the dog (in his natural state one of the meanest of the savage
race) a companion, a guardian, a protector, and raises Instinct half-way
to the height of Reason.
The banker had a strong regard for Alice; and when he reached home, he
heard with great pain that she was in a high state of fever. She
remained beneath his roof that night, and the elderly gentlewoman, his
relation and /gouvernante/, attended her. The banker slept but little;
and the next morning his countenance was unusually pale. Towards
daybreak Alice had fallen into a sound and refreshing sleep; and when,
on waking, she found, by a note from her host, that her father had left
her house, and she might return in safety and without fear, a violent
flood of tears, followed by long and grateful prayer, contributed to the
restoration of her mind and nerves. Imperfect as this young woman's
notions of abstract right and wrong still were, she was yet sensible to
the claims of a father (no matter how criminal) upon his child: for
feelings with her were so good and true, that they supplied in a great
measure the place of principles. She knew that she could not have lived
under the same roof with her dreadful parent; but she still felt an
uneasy remorse at thinking he had been driven from that roof in
destitution and want. She hastened to dress herself and seek an
audience with her protector; and the latter found with admiration and
pleasure that he had anticipated her own instantaneous and involuntary
design in the settlement made upon Darvil. He then communicated to
Alice the compact he had already formed with her father, and she wept
and kissed his hand when she heard, and secretly resolved that she would
work hard to be enabled to increase the sum allowed. Oh, if her labours
could serve to retrieve a parent from the necessity of darker resources
for support! Alas! when crime has become a custom, it is like gaming or
drinking--the excitement is wanting; and had Luke Darvil been suddenly
made inheritor of the wealth of a Rothschild, he would either still have
been a villain in one way or the other; or /ennui/ would have awakened
conscience, and he would have died of the change of habit.
Our banker always seemed more struck by Alice's moral feelings than even
by her physical beauty. Her love for her child, for instance, impressed
him powerfully, and he always gazed upon her with softer eyes when he
saw her caressing or nursing the little fatherless creature, whose
health was now delicate and precarious. It is difficult to say whether
he was absolutely in love with Alice; the phrase is too strong, perhaps,
to be applied to a man past fifty, who had gone through emotions and
trials enough to wear away freshness from his heart. His feelings
altogether for Alice, the designs he entertained towards her, were of a
very complicated nature; and it will be long, perhaps, before the reader
can thoroughly comprehend them. He conducted Alice home that day; but
he said little by the way, perhaps because his female relation, for
appearance' sake, accompanied them also. He, however, briefly cautioned
Alice on no account to communicate to any one that it was her father who
had been her visitor; and she still shuddered too much at the
reminiscence to appear likely to converse on it. The banker also judged
it advisable to be so far confidential with Alice's servant as to take
her aside, and tell her that the inauspicious stranger of the previous
evening had been a very distant relation of Mrs. Butler, who, from a
habit of drunkenness, had fallen into evil and disorderly courses. The
banker added with a sanctified air that he trusted, by a little serious
conversation, he had led the poor man to better notions, and that he had
gone home with an altered mind to his family. "But, my good Hannah," he
concluded, "you know you are a superior person, and above the vulgar sin
of indiscriminate gossip; therefore, mention what has occurred to no
one; it can do no good to Mrs. Butler--it may hurt the man himself, who
is well-to-do--better off than he seems; and who, I hope, with grace,
may be a sincere penitent; and it will also--but that is nothing--very
seriously displease me. By the by, Hannah, I shall be able to get your
grandson into the Free School."
The banker was shrewd enough to perceive that he had carried his point;
and he was walking home, satisfied, on the whole, with the way matters
had been arranged, when he was met by a brother magistrate.
"Ha!" said the latter, "and how are you, my good sir? Do you know that
we have had the Bow Street officers here, in search of a notorious
villain who has broken from prison? He is one of the most determined
and dexterous burglars in all England, and the runners have hunted him
into our town. His very robberies have tracked him by the way. He
robbed a gentleman the day before yesterday of his watch, and left him
for dead on the road--this was not thirty miles hence."
"Bless me!" said the banker, with emotion; "and what is the wretch's
name?"
"Why, he has as many aliases as a Spanish grandee; but I believe the
last name he has assumed is Peter Watts."
"Oh!" said our friend, relieved,--"well, have the runners found him?"
"No, but they are on his scent. A fellow answering to his description
was seen by the man at the toll-bar, at daybreak this morning, on the
way to F------; the officers are after him."
"I hope he may meet with his deserts--and crime is never unpunished even
in this world. My best compliments to your lady:--and how is little
Jack?--Well! glad to hear it--fine boy, little Jack! good day."
"Good day, my dear sir. Worthy man, that!"